Continuing my unpublished Star Trek short story and below are parts two and three. If you haven't read the first part you can read it here: Part 1 Unfortunately still haven't figured out how to fix the spacing issues for that segment.
STAR TREK: COURSE CORRECTIONS, PART 2
McCoy
worried about his friend as he wandered the simulated night of the Enterprise
corridors. He knew Jim was always harder
on himself than he needed to be. That personality quirk helped him rise to his
current position, but it put way too much stress on him. Damnit, being a ship captain is stressful enough, why in the world
would someone like Jim want to pile on with unnecessary guilt, he wondered.
Because he's a good man, came a counterpoint
from somewhere in the back of his brain. Over the last half decade, McCoy
figured he had been on perhaps eighty percent of the landing parties. Spock had
probably been on even more, and could probably calculate to the last decimal
the percentage when neither he nor McCoy had accompanied the captain. That was the mistake, McCoy thought, between the two of us Spock would give him
logical options and I would give him the correct ones, and he would make his
decisions and known they were right. He wouldn't be torturing himself like this
if one or both of us had been with him this time. He paused at the irony.
Now he was doing it. Blaming himself for the fact that space exploration was a
dangerous job.
He found
himself at Scotty's cabin and rang the chime. There was no answer. He continued
on down to Main Engineering. Scotty was never really off duty. Sure, he was
only on the schedule for a standard eight hour shift but, if his belly was full
and his technical journals read, he always found a reason to go to Engineering.
It was a struggle in the early days of McCoy's assignment to the Enterprise to
get the Scotsman to take a break. It was only when McCoy realized that Scotty
so loved his job and so loved tweaking the machine they called home, that McCoy gave
up. He worried about Scotty being a workaholic who would burn himself out, but
then when he saw how the egineer relished shore leave, he realized the concerns were
unfounded. Scotty worked hard and played hard and in between he tinkered to
relax. McCoy mistakenly mistook tinkering with work.
When McCoy
entered Main Engineering, he heard Montgomery Scott before he saw him.
"Blast
it! That shoulda worked."
McCoy
looked around and saw a skinny young Ensign kneeling in front of an open panel.
"But
sir, efficiency ratings are well above accepted parameters."
Scotty
worked himself out of the mechanical hole.
"Efficiency
ratings," Scotty repeated as if something sour had found its way into his
mouth. "Feh, those ratings are established by planet bound desk jockeys.
They do nae have to give the captain all she's got when he needs it. We
do."
The ensign
blanched as Scotty rose to his feet and continued, "Ye dinae need worry
about their parameters, ye need to worry about my parameters, understand lad?
With a gulp,
the ensign nodded. McCoy decided he would rescue the kid.
"Scotty,"
he called out, his voice echoing in the large chamber, "care to take a
break for a nip of the true?"
Scotty
dismissed the junior officer through pursed lips that underscored his
displeasure before turning to the doctor and allowing a smile to split his face
at the sight of the curved bottle and duo of glasses.
"Aye,
that sounds like just the prescription this engineer needs," Scotty said,
"Let's go into my office."
STAR TREK: COURSE CORRECTIONS, PART 3
Scotty
escorted the doctor into his private office, and noticed the doctor looking
around.
"You
know, I don't think I have ever been in here." McCoy said.
"Aye,
I dinae use it much. It's more of a storage place for, well, all o' this,"
Scotty said with a wave of his arm.
Scott was
amused as McCoy took in the piles of papers and blueprints.
"Is
all this the Enterprise?"
McCoy asked.
"Aye."
"Scotty,
you, ah, you do realize it's all available on the ship's computer?"
"Aye,
but what if the computer is down and ah need the information?"
Without
missing a beat. McCoy scrunched up his face. "Never mind, I don't want to
think about it," he said has he took a seat in the chair in front of
Scotty's desk.
"We'd
be up the proverbial creek and ah good engineer always needs ah paddle."
"Here's
my paddle," McCoy said hefting the brandy bottle.
"What
creek are ye up doctor, did Ensign Perez not pull through?"
"We're
at a wait and see point. Dr. M'Benga is keeping an eye on him, if he makes it
through the night..."
"I'm
sure ye did all ye could, doctor," Scotty said pulling a bottle of scotch
and a glass more than twice the size of McCoy's from beneath his desk.
"Ta
makin' it though the night."
Scotty emptied
the glass in three gulps and took a seat as McCoy replied in kind.
"How's
the captain doin'?"
"I
don't want to speak out of turn. I'll just say the usual and leave it at that,"
McCoy said as he shifted uncomfortably, probably worried about stepping over a
confidentiality line.
Scotty knew
Captain Kirk always fretted about his crew but there were so many random
encounters that no amount of planning could account for. That's why Scotty
loved machines, the math was simple. If X doesn't work then do Y to fix it. The
idea of the captain blaming himself for the actions of a bloody Klingon caused
a flash of anger.
"Bloody
hell, I hope ye nipped that in the bud. There was not a bloody thing he could
do."
"You
saw it?"
"No. I
was trying to get the Vendresi defense system up with Lieutenant Washburn. But
I heard when the Klingons beamed aboard they just started firing. Poor Ensign
Takahashi was vaporized before anyone could react. The captain, Chekov, and
Perez were lucky they made it."
"How
is Chekov?" McCoy asked, realizing he had yet to check in on the young
Ensign.
"Och,
he's just as bad as the captain. Blames himself."
"Figures,
I don't know who has corrupted the boy more, Jim or Spock."
"Today,
ah'd say it was the captain," Scotty said as he poured another drink.
"I
guess I should stop by and check on him. Self blame is no doubt a Russian
invention," McCoy said trying, and failing, to get his southern mouth to
emulate the young navigator's thick accent.
"Ye
might want to talk to Uhura as well," Scotty said. "Sub-space chatter
is that a new head o' Starfleet was appointed. It may effect assignments when
we get home."
That
stopped McCoy cold in his tracks. Scotty figured it would.
"Who?"
"Nogura."
"Awe,
hell," McCoy said.
McCoy's
reaction was what Scotty suspected it would be. Nogura was one of the few thoughtful
Admirals in Scotty's opinion. Most didn't know their elbow from a anti-matter
pod. However, Nogura was big on "rewarding" success. So far, both Morrow
and Cartwright had been promoted to Admiral when they got back to Earth after
their missions. Both were heavily advocated by Nogura and now that he was in
charge of the fleet he would push Captain Kirk hard to take an Admiral's
position. Most assumed he would be offered another deep space mission after
getting the Enterprise
a proper refit and most of the crew, Scotty included, wanted to sign on again
under the captain. But now, one could only assume Nogura would want the captain
at Starfleet Command. Now that he was the top dog, Nogura would get what he
wanted by hook or by crook.
"If Nogura
catches Jim at the wrong time..."
"Aye,
the Enterprise would lose the best
captain in the fleet."
Scotty
could see the wheels turning behind McCoy's eyes and tried to console him.
"We're
still ah few months from home, the captain will nae make a rash decision, there
is still time to sway him, if'n we think he's about to make a poor
decision"
"I'll
talk to Chekov, then see what Uhura has heard," McCoy said as he paused at
the door, "However, if Jim takes a desk job, I swear, I'll leave the
fleet."
Scotty
filled his glass again and hoisted it in the air.
"Then
good luck to ya, Doctor McCoy cause I would hate to lose the best captain and
the best doctor in the fleet."
No comments:
Post a Comment